Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Charms of melody, or, Siren medley

THE CHARMS OF MELODY.
339
The Soldier's Return.
WHEN wild war's deadly blaft was blawn,
And gentle peace returning.
And eyes again with pleafure beam'd.
That had been blear'd with mourning-,
I left the lines, and tented field.
Where lang I'd been a lodger,
My humble knapfack a' my wealth,
A poor but honeft Soldier.
A leal light heart beat in my breaR,
My hand inittain'd wi' plunder ;
And for fair Scotia, hame again,
1 cheery on did wander.-
1 thought upon the banks o' Coil,
1 thought upon my Nancy,
I thought upon her witching fmile.
That caught my youthful fancy.
At length I reach'd the bonny glen,
Where early life 1 fporied,
I paft the mill, and tryffing thorn.
Where Nancy aft 1 courted,
Wha fpied I but mine ain dear maid
Down by her mother's dwelling !
And turn'd me round to hide the flood
That in my een was fwelling.
W'i' alter'd voice quoth I, fweet lafs,
S\veet as yon hawthorn bloflom,
O! happy, happy, may he be,
That's deareft to thy bofom.
My purfe is light, I've far to gang.
Fain wad I be thy lodger ;
I've ferv'd my King and country lang.
Take pity on a Soldier.
Sae wiflfully (lie gaz'd on me.
An . lovelier grew than ever ;
Q}io' fhe, a Soldier ance 1 lo'ed.
Forget him i lliall never :
Our humble cot, and hamely fair,
Ye freely fhall partake it,
The gallant badge, the dear cockade,
„ Ye' re welcome for the fake o't.
iShe gaz'd — flie redden'd like a rofe —
Syne pale like ony lily,
She fank within mine arms, and cried.
Art thou mine ain dear Willie ?
By him who made yon fun and fky,
By whom true love's regarded,
1 am the man! — and thus may flill
True lovers be rewarded.
iThe war's are o'er, and I'm come hame,
And find thee flill true hearted ;
Tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,
I And mair, we'fe ne'er be parted.
[2)10, fhe, my grandfire left me gowd,
': A mailin' plenilh'd fairly :
^ome then, my faithful Soldier lad,
Thou'rt welcome to it dearly!
or gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor ;
;5ut glory is the Soldier's prize.
The Soldier's wealth is honour!
jHie brave poor Soldier ne'er defpife,
Nor count him as a firanger ;
itemember, he's his country's ilay
In day and hour of danger.
New Tally Ho.
THE hunters are up, and the ruddy fac'd m6rn
Molt cheerful falute with the mufical horn j
The blue mifty mountains feem join'd with the'
fkies,
And the dogs yelp around as away Reynard flies.
Tally ho, tally ho, fee the game is in view,
The fportfmen all cry as they nimbly purfue.
The high mettled fleed fweeps away at the found.
And the hills feem to move as they fly o'er the
ground.
Each profpeil is charming, all nature is cay.
And promifes fport and fucoefs thro' the day.
Tally ho, tally ho, fee the game is in view.
The fportfmen all cry as they nimbly purfue
The goddefs of pleafure, fweet rofy cheek'd health,
Gives joy more abundant than titles or wealth ;
And appetite gives to their viands a ze(\
Above all the fauces by cooks ever dreft.
Tally ho, tally ho, fee the game is in view.
The fportfmen all cry as they nimbly purfue.
Huzza J then my boys, to the chace let's away,
Nor in indolence lofe the delights of the day ,'
Frorn fafhion and folly we borrow no grace,
But joy paints the cheek as we follow the chace.
Tally ho, tally ho, fee the game is in view.
The fportfmen all cry as th~ey nimbly purfue.
Phillida and Corydon.
IN the merry month of May,
In a morn, by break of day.
Forth I walk'd by the wood-fide.
When, as May was in his pride.
There I fpy'd, all alone, all alone,
Phillida and Corydon.
Much ado there was, God wat.'
He would love, and fhe would not :
|She faid, never man u-as true :
•He faid, none was fiille to you.
■ He faid, he had lov'd her long:
■She faid, love fhould have no wrong.
. — ^ .
Corydon would kifs"* Her then :
She faid, maids muft kiifs no men
Till they did for good and all.
Then fhe made the Ihepherd call
All the heavens to vvitnefs truth ;
Ne'er lov'd a truer youth.
Thus, w-ith many a pretty oath,
Yea and nay, and faith and troth ?
Such as filly fhepherd's ufe '
When they will not love abufe j
Love, which had been long deluded,
Was, with kilfes fv\eet, concluded:
And Phillida, with garlands gav,
1 Was made the lady of the inay.